


Caged

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-15
Updated: 2009-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: “I really prefer it when the large, hungry predators are the ones inside the cage.”





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Summer Fic Fest story inspired by Sita's sunburn prompt.
> 
> Thanks to Mike, for his usual insightful beta reading.
> 
> Series Timeline: Three weeks after _Phases_ (June 2156).

The science survey team had made a surprising discovery: remnants of a dead civilization. Therefore another team had been sent to the planet to study the ruins. Hilde Van Assche, leading an archaeological expedition, was ecstatic. Trip suspected theyâ€™d have to drag her away when it was time to leave. 

Apparently Ensign Gomez, one of Malcolmâ€™s beta-shift crewmembers, had earned a bachelorâ€™s degree in archaeology before joining Starfleet, and Van Assche had eagerly put him to work. Trip was on the team, mainly in case they uncovered interesting technology. Hoshi was already hard at work attempting to learn something from a sign that Tâ€™Pol had discovered while collecting mineral samples. Captain Archer was flying around the planet in a shuttlepod looking for any large exposed structures (though Trip suspected any excuse to get out and fly wouldâ€™ve sufficed). The most surprising thing was Malcolmâ€™s experience. It turned out that his Aunt Nell was an archaeologist, and one summer during his college years Malcolm had accompanied her on a dig. Van Assche had happily taken him up on his offer of assistance. She herself claimed to be an anthropologist first and an archaeologist second, but Trip never wouldâ€™ve guessed from her enthusiasm and apparent knowledge. Meanwhile, it was an excited but slightly nervous Travis who had command of _Enterprise_. 

Because they hadnâ€™t unearthed any technology yet, Van Assche gave Trip the task of taking pictures of the site, the artifacts, and the dig in progress. Whenever a new artifact was uncovered, it was his job to take a picture before it was moved. (Although they hadnâ€™t actually found anything movable yet.) Besides the sign Hoshi was analyzing â€“ and she cautioned everyone that the odds were against her deciphering the language from a single sign â€“ their only other discovery was the bottom half of a statue, which was conveniently lying horizontally. It was bipedal; Hoshi and Van Assche floated the theory that the sign might explain who the statue represented. 

â€œIâ€™ve got something,â€ called Malcolm. Trip followed Van Assche over to see the discovery. 

When they got there, Malcolm was measuring the depth heâ€™d found the object at and noting it on a padd. Trip peered into the carefully marked plot Malcolm was digging in, where a ring was lying. Because it was sideways, Trip couldnâ€™t tell what the big â€“ something â€“ on top was. He snapped a couple of pictures. It looked to be made of a silver metal. 

â€œPlatinum alloy of some kind,â€ announced Malcolm after scanning the ring with his scanner. 

Van Assche checked Malcolmâ€™s measurement notes and was satisfied. â€œGo ahead and pick it up. Sir,â€ she added hastily. 

â€œYour away mission, Lieutenant,â€ Malcolm reminded her. â€œYou call the shots.â€ 

While Malcolm held the ring up, Van Assche took a tiny brush and swept some of the dirt away, revealing that the ring, where a gemstone would be on many rings, had a platinum flower. Or at least, Trip felt safe in assuming it was a flower. 

â€œItâ€™s lovely,â€ said Van Assche, clearly pleased. â€œIn great condition.â€ 

Trip took another picture. â€œIf itâ€™s a ring, their fingers were about the same size as ours.â€ 

â€œPresuming itâ€™s an average size, yes,â€ agreed Van Assche. â€œBut those are two rather significant â€˜ifs,â€™ Commander.â€ 

â€œWhy am I gettinâ€™ the feelinâ€™ Iâ€™d be a lousy archaeologist?â€ 

Malcolm chuckled. Van Assche simply went on, â€œBag it and tag it. Good work, Commander Reed. Youâ€™re methodical and take excellent notes.â€ She went a few meters over to her own plot, beyond which Gomez was hard at work. 

â€œWhen you make a discovery in engineering, itâ€™s more concrete,â€ said Malcolm. â€œThis is a good artifact, but it alone tells us next to nothing. Perhaps thatâ€™s why youâ€™re not cut out to be an archaeologist.â€ With that, Malcolm dropped the ring into a neatly labeled bag and resumed scraping away at the dirt. 

â€œMaybe. But itâ€™s also a little sad. I mean, here we are, tryinâ€™ to learn what we can from old things, because itâ€™s all thatâ€™s left. This entire race, anâ€™ if it werenâ€™t for Tâ€™Pol almost trippinâ€™ on a sign weâ€™d never have even known they existed.â€ It was a bit depressing, not least because it could happen to Earth. 

â€œOn the other hand, we have these things to learn about this race. A few people in the galaxy will still know they existed. It will be a matter of Starfleet record. What weâ€™re doing doesnâ€™t just teach us, it also remembers them.â€ 

Trip wasnâ€™t entirely convinced. It was different from archaeological digs on Earth, because while cultures may have died out, descendants still lived and the human race continued. This was more depressing. He definitely wasnâ€™t cut out to be an archaeologist. 

â€œThe dig I went on with Aunt Nell,â€ elaborated Malcolm, â€œuncovered artifacts that increased knowledge about Germanic tribes on the outer edges of the Roman Empire. The discoveries also fueled interest in the tribes. Aunt Nell consulted on a museum exhibit. Those cultures no longer exist, but they arenâ€™t forgotten.â€ 

It took Trip a couple of seconds to remember Aunt Nell. After all, heâ€™d met a lot of Malcolmâ€™s family members at Maddieâ€™s wedding. â€œSheâ€™s the one with the really curly hair, right?â€ 

â€œYes. Fatherâ€™s sister.â€ 

â€œRight.â€ He remembered her as nice, though heâ€™d only met her briefly. â€œIâ€™m not sayinâ€™ that archaeology is bad, just that I donâ€™t think I could do it all the time.â€ 

â€œNor could I.â€ 

Trip looked pointedly at Malcolmâ€™s little patch of dirt. â€œYou look like youâ€™re doinâ€™ just fine.â€ 

â€œIâ€™d be dreadfully bored if I attempted a career in archaeology. Itâ€™s all very well once in a while, but by the end of that summer, Iâ€™d reached the point where another shard of pottery seemed dull.â€ Trip couldnâ€™t think of a situation where he wouldnâ€™t think a shard of pottery was dull. 

In the next hour, Van Assche discovered what was probably the statueâ€™s hand and Gomez made what Trip considered to be the least interesting find: a couple of nails. (Or, as Van Assche preferred, â€œobjects that closely resembled Earth nails and could well be used for the same purpose.â€) Since Hoshiâ€™s work on the sign was going nowhere â€“ she said it was far too small and isolated a sample â€“ sheâ€™d been recruited to dig under Van Asscheâ€™s supervision. The two women were contentedly discussing theories about the culture they were exploring. 

Trip had worried that Hoshi might resent Van Asscheâ€™s intrusion into her territory â€“ because he thought he would, in her shoes - but it turned out that Hoshi was relieved. â€œIâ€™m a linguist, not an anthropologist. Of course Iâ€™m interested in these things, but Iâ€™m glad to have someone else whoâ€™s trained for it,â€ sheâ€™d said. In fact the two often worked together, and were fast becoming friends. 

He was watching Malcolm, who was always his favorite person to watch. In Tripâ€™s opinion, archaeology was more than a little boring, but he was glad to see his fiancÃ© enjoying himself. Besides, the climate was nice and temperate (most importantly, not a desert), so it was nice to be outside if nothing else. 

At last Trip saw something other than dirt. â€œHey, look at that.â€ 

â€œI see it,â€ said Malcolm, switching to a brush. Slowly, he moved away more and more of the dirt, revealing what looked like a very tarnished coin. 

Trip took pictures while Malcolm wrote down the measurements and called Van Assche over. Before the anthropologist got there, however, Tripâ€™s communicator came to life. â€œShuttlepod One to Tucker. Thereâ€™s a pretty big herd moving in your direction.â€ 

Before the captain had even finished, Malcolmâ€™s scanner went off, alerting him to the same herd. They didnâ€™t have a shuttlepod because the captain was flying the one theyâ€™d come down in, looking for ruins. All five of them reached for their phase pistols. Trip held his in one hand and his communicator in the other. â€œTucker to _Enterprise_. We need emergency transport, now!â€ 

â€œOn it,â€ replied Travis. 

As he watched a fast-moving herd rush towards them, Trip resolved to propose keeping someone permanently stationed at transporter controls whenever anyone was off the ship. Heâ€™d write up that proposal as soon as possible. 

â€œBloody hell, these creatures are fast!â€ muttered Malcolm, who was splitting his attention between the scanner readings and the herd. 

â€œSooner would be better, Lieutenant,â€ Trip told Travis, growing slightly alarmed. 

â€œThatâ€™s a lot of animals,â€ muttered Van Assche from behind. The herd did seem big, although it was hard to guess how creatures there were when they were moving so quickly. 

They really, really needed to keep someone at transporter controls whenever a team was off the ship. Trip resolved to fight for that all the way to Admiral Gardner if necessary. 

With a loud clanging noise, metal spikes shot up around them and formed a cage which looked like the frame for a tepee. Since the bars were only fifteen centimeters apart, there was no way any of the crew away team could slip though them. A circle some thirty meters across was protected, although Gomez was at the very edge and in fact half of his plot and his archaeology kit were outside the perimeter. It was pure luck that all five of them were inside. 

â€œWe canâ€™t transport,â€ reported Travis gravely. â€œAn unknown substance is interfering with transport.â€ 

â€œProbably the bars that just shot up around us. On the plus side, I think weâ€™re safe for the moment.â€ Seconds after Trip made that pronouncement, the herd reached their cage and the vanguard members proceeded to snarl and throw themselves at the bars. The snarls were so deep, Trip suspected theyâ€™d be much louder if human hearing could detect lower frequencies. 

â€œI hope this is sturdy,â€ muttered Van Assche, whoâ€™d gone a bit pale. 

Travis asked, â€œCommander?â€ 

â€œWeâ€™ve got two hundred or so creatures surroundinâ€™ this cage. They sorta look like a cross between lions anâ€™ beavers.â€ It was a strange combination, and Trip wasnâ€™t sure heâ€™d ever look at beavers the same way again. But the large, flat tails (quite powerful, judging by the strength with which they periodically hit the ground) were unmistakably beaver-like. The teeth looked like a beaverâ€™s, too, except for the serrated edges, which would no doubt be quite painful. The bodies, though, were much more feline, and more or less the size of lions. This was good, at least, because they couldnâ€™t fit through the bars. Malcolm fired his phase pistol at one of the creatures, but after half a second the weapon died. He tried again, to no avail. Gomez had no luck either. Their phase pistols were useless. 

â€œThis is probably the retract stick,â€ announced Van Assche. Trip turned to look where she was examining a rod in the middle of the cage, complete with a large ball on top which at one point was probably shiny but was now coated in dirt and grime. 

â€œThe science team is at their second location now,â€ Travis informed him. That was good, because the second location had been some sixty kilometers away, so the others werenâ€™t in danger from the herd. 

â€œCaptain Archer is going to fly over and scan your position,â€ said Travis. â€œAre you in immediate danger?â€ 

Trip was glad that he could honestly say, â€œNo.â€ 

â€œWeâ€™ll contact you in a few minutes, then.â€ â€œWeâ€™ll be here. Tucker out.â€ 

Van Assche took â€˜no immediate dangerâ€™ as a signal to holster her phase pistol and start carefully packing up the two archaeology kits still inside the bars. Trip wasnâ€™t all that worried about their finds, considering the situation, but he was glad to see that four of their water pouches were also safely inside their cage. 

â€œThis cage couldâ€™ve been built to protect the inhabitants from these creatures,â€ suggested Gomez. â€œWith sensors to activate it when the stampede came.â€ 

â€œMaybe,â€ said Trip. It was as good a theory as any, but at the moment he didnâ€™t think the purpose of the cage was terribly important. He was much more concerned with the strength of the bars. â€œThereâ€™s somethinâ€™ in these interferinâ€™ with the scans.â€ Sometimes he got readings, like when he pointed the scanner at Hoshi or carefully aimed it between the bars at the beaver-lions. But the bars themselves were basically invisible to the scanner, which explained the transporter and phase pistols not working as well as their failure to detect the cage earlier. 

Van Assche, having finished packing up, grabbed the camera and began documenting the cage. â€œI really prefer it when the large, hungry predators are the ones inside the cage.â€ 

â€œThat makes two of us,â€ agreed Malcolm. 

â€œNo argument here,â€ said Gomez. 

Hoshi was listening to the creatures, scanner in hand, no doubt trying to figure out if the noises were a language with patterns or just the howls of hungry predators. Trip tried not to go into situations with many preconceptions, but he had a hard time picturing the beasts as self-aware, intelligent life forms. 

â€œThereâ€™s the captain,â€ announced Malcolm as Shuttlepod One flew into view. 

Archerâ€™ voice came through Tripâ€™s communicator. â€œShuttlepod One to Tucker.â€ 

â€œTucker.â€ 

â€œI hope those bars are strong.â€ 

â€œLooks like it.â€ 

â€œDid you try phase pistols?â€ 

â€œNot workinâ€™.â€ 

â€œIâ€™ll try,â€ announced the captain. Shuttlepod One fired but the beam fizzled out before it could hit any of the beaver-lions. 

â€œThatâ€™s what happened with the pistols,â€ reported Trip. â€œAnâ€™ these bars might as well be invisible for all the scanner can get.â€ 

â€œBut they are keeping the creatures out?â€ 

â€œFor the moment,â€ said Malcolm. 

â€œI need to get back to the ship with these scans,â€ decided Archer. â€œPhlox might be able to neutralize these creatures. Let me know if your status changes.â€ 

â€œWill do, Capâ€™n.â€ 

â€œShuttlepod One out.â€ With that, the captain pulled the â€˜podâ€™ up and away. 

â€œThe chances of this being a language are almost nonexistent,â€ said Hoshi. 

Trip was going to say that he wasnâ€™t surprised, but before he did Malcolm asked, â€œLieutenant, what are you doing?â€ 

Van Assche briefly looked up from her spot kneeling on the ground, where she was bagging the coin Malcolm had uncovered before the stampede. â€œThereâ€™s nothing else I can do, so I might as well continue the dig.â€ 

Malcolm gave Trip a disbelieving look. Trip shrugged. It was unconventional, but there really wasnâ€™t anything else for her to do. 

Hoshi picked up a brush and joined the anthropologist. â€œMaybe itâ€™ll help take my mind off the hungry beasts.â€ 

There wasnâ€™t much else any of them could do, but Malcolm and Gomez were keeping keen eyes on the situation, unwilling to turn their backs to the angry, hungry creatures. Trip started thinking of other potential ways to get out, without success. 

Twenty minutes (and another unearthed coin on Van Asscheâ€™s part) later, Trip hadnâ€™t come up with any practical solutions. At least the herd had calmed down some, although the beaver-lions were still prowling around and growling. â€œIs it me,â€ asked Malcolm, â€œor have some of the creatures left?â€ 

â€œMaybe, but only a few.â€ 

â€œProgress, I suppose.â€ 

At that rate of progress, theyâ€™d be there for days, so Trip wasnâ€™t too excited. 

â€œI wonder if this piece of metal is supposed to be so mangled,â€ mused Hoshi while she photographed the find. 

Trip peered over and for a second thought sheâ€™d found the brooch Grandma Tucker always wore. That was impossible, of course. One, they were light-years away from Earth. Two, Lizzie had inherited the brooch after Grandma died, so it had been destroyed by the Xindi along with so much else. When Hoshi picked the artifact up, he realized that it was much bigger than the brooch anyway. The incident did, however, remind him that he needed to write to his grandpa. Once they were safely aboard the ship, a story being trapped in a cage while beaver-lions waited outside to eat them was the kind of letter Grandpa would love. Itâ€™d probably be the talk of his retirement community. 

While Hoshi and Van Assche examined the piece of metal, Gomez was still walking around the cage. He wasnâ€™t too close to the bars, or the beasts would be able to reach him with the nasty-looking teeth, not to mention claws, but it was very clear the ensign was on guard duty. 

Malcolm was taking more scans of the creatures and sending the information to _Enterprise_. He somehow managed to look in control of the situation, which only he could do under the circumstances. â€œDo you think remodulating the phase pistol could allow them to function?â€ 

Trip considered the idea for a moment. â€œNo guarantees, but it might work.â€ It was worth a shot, not least because Trip had no better thoughts. He grabbed his phase pistol and toolbox. â€œHigher or lower?â€ 

â€œNo clue. Perhaps you can flip one of those coins.â€ 

â€œThese are valuable clues into a lost culture, not decision-makers,â€ said Van Assche. She continued sweeping away layers of dirt but glanced protectively at the coins in their little bags. 

â€œIâ€™ll try higher,â€ declared Trip, and he got to work. 

A few minutes into his remodulation, his communicator chirped. â€œ _Enterprise_ to Tucker.â€ 

â€œTucker.â€ 

â€œHow are you holding up?â€ asked the captain. 

â€œWeâ€™re alright. Iâ€™m remodulatinâ€™ a phase pistol to see if it makes a difference.â€ 

â€œPhlox is still looking over the scans on those creatures, but so we havenâ€™t got anything. Sensors canâ€™t get a lock on those bars, either. Weâ€™re also concerned about firing torpedoes, since youâ€™re so close.â€ 

â€œIâ€™m not sure we should test if this cage can stand up to torpedoes,â€ said Trip. 

â€œWhat about small projectiles?â€ asked Malcolm. 

â€œThose would probably work,â€ said the captain after a minute of thought. 

There was an insurmountable problem, as Trip pointed out. â€œToo bad we donâ€™t have any.â€ 

â€œTereau could make some, but it would take at least a day. She could modify several torpedoes to cover the area with shrapnel,â€ mused Malcolm aloud, â€œif there was a way to protect us.â€ 

Archer was dubious. â€œThatâ€™s a pretty important if.â€ 

â€œYes sir.â€ 

â€œIâ€™ll talk with Tereau and get back to you. Ideally we can get you out of this without killing the creatures. Keep me apprised of your situation.â€ 

â€œWill do,â€ said Trip. 

â€œ _Enterprise_ out.â€ 

â€œRemodulating the phase pistol doesnâ€™t look altogether promising,â€ said Malcolm. 

â€œNo, but at least itâ€™s somethinâ€™ to try.â€ 

Malcolm, who had never coped with being helpless very well, understood that sentiment. He resumed his watching and scanning while Trip went back to his phase pistol remodulation. 

After a couple of quite minutes, Van Assche asked, â€œWho has the sunscreen?â€ 

â€œI think Gomez had it last,â€ replied Malcolm. 

The ensign looked through the bars to where his archaeology kit was (or at least had been, but it was hard to be certain; if it was still there, the kit was thoroughly trampled). â€œUh-oh.â€ 

Van Assche said something in Dutch. While Trip was no linguist, he was reasonably sure it was a curse. â€œI am going to burn hideously.â€ 

â€œDamn,â€ said Trip. Just their luck that the sunscreen got trampled on a planet with strong radiation. Phlox had been very clear that they were to reapply often. 

The anthropologist looked at her dirt patch. â€œAt least Iâ€™ll be doing something interesting and exciting.â€ 

Trip, unfortunately, couldnâ€™t say the same. At least they were several hundred kilometers from the nearest desert. 

Forty minutes later he had to give up on the remodulated phase pistol idea. Whatever the cage was made of, it interfered something fierce. They were lucky communications still worked. Gomez had been set to work by Phlox, taking very specific scans of the beaver-lions which would hopefully find some exploitable weakness. 

Malcolm had talked with Tereau and the two of them were working on a plan to modify a couple of torpedoes to shoot shrapnel. The really important part of that plan was shielding the cage so none of them got shot, so Hess had been recruited to make a thick shield out of their extra metal. The shield could then be lowered by the shuttlepods. Of course, there was always the chance that luck would be on their side and the creatures would just go away, but that wasnâ€™t the kind of thing they could count on. 

Trip eyed Hoshi and Van Assche carefully scraping away dirt, and decided to do a little archaeological investigation of his own. Grabbing a trowel, he began to carefully press it into the grass, marking out a square around the rod. If they were right and it was the control lever, a little exploration was in order. Once the bear-lions were dealt with, it would make life easier if they could lower the bars. Very carefully so as not to accidentally bring the protective bars down, Trip set out to remove the grass roots. Van Assche didnâ€™t look thrilled with his method, but she apparently decided it wasnâ€™t worth reproaching a senior officer in a less-than-ideal situation. 

By the time he had the grass and roots cut away he was thirsty. He grabbed two of the water pouches, handing one to Hoshi and sipping from the other before passing it to Malcolm. All five of them drank, but not very much. Trip was sure _Enterprise_ could get them water if it came down to it, but hopefully they wouldnâ€™t be stuck that long. 

He took one of the larger brushes from the archaeology kit and started brushing away the dirt. 

â€œ _Enterprise_ to Tucker.â€ 

â€œTucker,â€ he answered, hoping for good news. 

â€œPhlox and Olsen think these creatures are vulnerable to sounds below what we can hear. Hess and Tâ€™Pol are working on creating a sonic wave generator.â€ 

That was just exactly the kind of good news heâ€™d wanted. â€œGreat. Weâ€™re gonna see if we can figure out how to retract these bars.â€ 

â€œItâ€™ll be a couple of hours before weâ€™re ready.â€ 

â€œWeâ€™ll be here.â€ After all, it wasnâ€™t like they had a choice. 


	2. Part II

Malcolm was altogether cross and getting more so by the moment. They were trapped by bars made of something impossible to detect and therefore work around, most of their equipment was useless or half-useless, and while he couldnâ€™t feel it just yet, his face, neck, and hands were no doubt burning under the harsh sun. It certainly didnâ€™t improve matters that he was helpless, and Malcolm could never abide being helpless.

While he and Gomez watched the creatures and attempted to get useful scans, Trip, Hoshi, and Van Assche were crowded around the central rod. They were reasonably confident that it was the release mechanism and that they could use it to lower the bars once it was safe to do so. Trip was still trying to figure out what it was made of, with no success. Hoshi was comparing the inscriptions with what had been chiseled onto the sign sheâ€™d studied earlier and therefore content in her linguistic work. Of course, Van Assche was busily working on the archaeology angle, trying to suss out the purpose of the cage. 

At least the sonic wave was promising. That thought was rudely interrupted when one of the creatures spit on him. As if the entire situation wasnâ€™t unpleasant enough to begin with. 

â€œYou ugly bastard,â€ he hissed at it, wiping his hand on his thigh. 

That got Tripâ€™s attention. â€œWhat?â€ 

â€œApparently they spit.â€ 

Hoshi made a disgusted face. â€œGross.â€ 

Trip was about to say something when his communicator chirped. â€œ _Enterprise_ to Tucker.â€ 

â€œTucker,â€ he replied, wiping his forehead and streaking it with dirt in the process. 

â€œHowâ€™re you holding up?â€ asked Captain Archer. 

â€œOh, alright. Iâ€™m pretty sure I can get these bars down, but we canâ€™t make heads or tails of this metal. Actually, Iâ€™m not even sure it  is metal.â€ 

Whatever it was, Malcolm had already thought of several potential uses should they be able to mine the substance. Hull plating, first and foremost. The tricky part would be making sure sensors and weapons still worked, but he thought perhaps the use of a composite, combined with a bit of readjusting so sensors, like weapons, operated on the other side of the hullâ€¦ 

The captainâ€™s voice brought him back to the immediate problems. â€œPhlox wants me to remind you about reapplying sunscreen.â€ 

â€œUh, about that, Capâ€™nâ€¦â€ 

Archer sighed. â€œDonâ€™t tell me. Itâ€™s on the outside of the bars.â€ 

â€œYeah.â€ 

â€œIâ€™ll have Phlox get his burn cream ready.â€ 

Trip nodded, though of course the captain couldnâ€™t see the gesture of habit. â€œWeâ€™ve got the water, though. Shouldnâ€™t be gettinâ€™ dehydrated down here.â€ 

â€œThatâ€™s something,â€ agreed the captain. 

Malcolm thought that the heat â€“ or more accurately, the sunâ€™s radiation â€“ might be starting to get to him. Either that, or the cage had suddenly begun to wobble. The latter was much less desirable, but since nobody else seemed to find anything amiss he decided that he was just having a spot of dizziness. 

Archer said, â€œWe should be ready for the sonic wave in less than an hour.â€ 

â€œGreat,â€ replied Trip, obviously looking forward to returning to the ship. 

â€œKeep me apprised.â€ 

â€œWill do. Tucker out.â€ 

Less than an hour. Theyâ€™d been in much tighter situations, really. If the planet would just stop tilting at odd angles, this would soon be merely another minor misadventure to add to the list. 

Trip stood in front of him, concerned. â€œMalcolm? You donâ€™t look so good.â€ 

â€œIâ€™m fine,â€ he replied, automatically. Trip frowned. â€œJust a bit dizzy. Itâ€™ll pass in a moment.â€ 

Of course, Trip knew that â€˜a bit dizzy,â€™ coming from him, meant â€˜I feel like Iâ€™m trapped in an eddy.â€™ â€œMaybe you should sit -â€ 

Before Trip could finish his very sensible suggestion, Malcolm fell sideways. Trip more or less caught him and they ended on the grass in a mostly controlled manner. 

â€œAre you alright?â€ asked Hoshi, rushing over. 

â€œWounded dignity,â€ replied Malcolm, â€œbut otherwise fine.â€ 

â€œWeâ€™re okay,â€ said Trip, settling Malcolm so he was about as comfortable as one could expect in the circumstances. â€œHoshi, can I borrow your scanner?â€ 

She handed it to him instantly, and he scanned Malcolm. â€œWant a drink?â€ 

â€œNo, thank you.â€ All he wanted was for his equilibrium to return to its normal, functioning state. Well, that and to be back on _Enterprise_. 

â€œAw, hell.â€ Trip scowled at the scanner. â€œI think when that thing spit on you, it transferred this microorganism.â€ He held out the scanner, but looking at the spinning display just made Malcolm worse, so he looked away. 

â€œBest be careful not to touch me, then. If it absorbed through my skin, I could transfer it to you.â€ 

â€œI donâ€™t think so,â€ countered Trip. â€œIt probably got in through that.â€ 

Malcolm followed Tripâ€™s gaze to his left knuckle. Damn. Heâ€™d forgotten all about that tiny scrape, as it hadnâ€™t even really bled. But earlier, when digging, heâ€™d scraped his knuckle against a rock and had broken the skin. That was all a foreign microorganism would need, in all likelihood. 

â€œIâ€™ll talk to Captain Archer and transmit these readings,â€ offered Hoshi, leaving Trip to care for him. Malcolm didnâ€™t like to be coddled, but it was rather comforting to have Tripâ€™s solid presence. Van Assche brought over the little first aid kit, but regrettably it contained nothing especially useful in combating dizziness. 

â€œDamn, these things are fast. Youâ€™re already gettinâ€™ a fever. Any other symptoms?â€ 

That would explain why his feet were getting cold. â€œRather weak in the muscles,â€ he whispered, most unhappy with the situation. He heard Trip and Hoshi talking with Phlox, but didnâ€™t really follow the conversation, as a particularly nasty wave of dizziness came over him. 

â€œMalcolm? Malcolm?â€ 

He turned â€“ not too quickly â€“ and faced Trip. â€œYes?â€ 

Trip was frowning. â€œYou zoned out on me.â€ 

â€œSorry. Dizzy.â€ 

â€œWeâ€™ve got a scanner set up,â€ said Trip, pointing at the instrument with a hypospray, â€œanâ€™ this should keep your fever from gettinâ€™ too high.â€ 

While Trip injected the medication, Malcolm decided that he was quite glad Gomez was there as well. The ensign had come for his archaeology experience, but now it was good to have someone taking care of security, since he himself couldnâ€™t even stand up. 

There was a water pouch wobbling in front of his face. He took it and managed to guide it to his mouth, getting a few sips of water. 

â€œNeed anythinâ€™ else?â€ asked Trip. 

â€œNothing we have.â€ 

Trip therefore sat down and pulled Malcolm so that he found himself leaning on his partnerâ€™s shoulder. After a brief debate with himself, Malcolm conceded that it was an extenuating circumstance, and therefore exempt from the â€˜no on-duty affectionâ€™ rule. After all, it did help his battered equilibrium ever so slightly to know he was leaning on Tripâ€™s steady shoulder. Having decided, Malcolm shifted and made himself comfortable. 

Suddenly he remembered that heâ€™d arranged to meet with Ensign Kearny that evening to discuss his latest project. That was absolutely necessary, as the new project involved rewriting computer programs and not even Trip made significant program changes without consulting Kearny, their computer specialist. The man probably knew every line of code in _Enterprise_ â€™s many programs. â€œDamn. Iâ€™ll have to reschedule with Kearny,â€ he told Trip. 

â€œWeâ€™ve gone five years with this program. A couple more days wonâ€™t hurt.â€ 

â€œPerhaps.â€ Malcolm fully intended to reschedule for the following evening, not â€˜a coupleâ€™ of days later, but he kept that thought to himself. It would be at least two weeks before he and Kearny could get the new algorithms written and implemented, but Malcolm was keen to get them working as soon as possible. A more nuanced program would allow the targeting sensors and firing systems to better take into account planetary gravity. That kind of thing was quite hard to work out in oneâ€™s head during a firefight, after all. 

â€œI can just about feel myself burnin,â€™â€ said Trip after a moment. 

â€œIf you were dizzy and feverish enough, you wouldnâ€™t notice.â€ His tone came out a bit harsher than Malcolm intended. 

Trip sounded so apologetic that Malcolm automatically felt guilty. â€œI didnâ€™t mean-â€ 

â€œI know. Donâ€™t mind me. You know how unpleasant I get when Iâ€™m ill.â€ 

Trip brushed a stray blade of grass out of Malcolmâ€™s hair. â€œI know youâ€™ve gotta be feelinâ€™ pretty lousy if youâ€™re not tryinâ€™ to convince us youâ€™re fine.â€ 

â€œIâ€™ve nearly given up on trying convincing you Iâ€™m fine. It never seems to work anymore.â€ 

â€œGood.â€ 

Malcolm wasnâ€™t altogether sure if that was a good or bad thing â€“ he suspected both â€“ but was distracted by Trip taking his right hand and slowly massaging it. Trip was good with his hands in every context known to Malcolm. Along with a brilliant mind for warp mechanics, it was what made him such a fine engineer. 

â€œTrip,â€ he began, â€œwe shouldnâ€™t-â€ 

â€œItâ€™s not like weâ€™re makinâ€™ out here. This is just somethinâ€™ else for you to focus on, okay?â€ 

He fully intended to say that they were still on-duty and he didnâ€™t think it was appropriate, but it felt so good that somehow Malcolm heard himself say against his better judgment, â€œAlright.â€ 

The relative calm was broken when Van Assche exclaimed, â€œWonderful!â€ 

â€œItâ€™s some of the same characters that were used on the first stone,â€ noted Hoshi. 

â€œGood digginâ€™ over there?â€ asked Trip. 

â€œA small stone with writing carved into it.â€ Van Assche was clearly thrilled. â€œAnd a picture! Humanoid, althoughâ€¦ are those little horns?â€ 

Trip concentrated his fingers around Malcolmâ€™s knuckles, gently kneading. â€œWell, at least theyâ€™re gettinâ€™ something out of this.â€ 

â€œItâ€™s the mysterious element Iâ€™m more interested in,â€ said Malcolm. â€œThe potential uses are numerous.â€ 

â€œHard to mine somethinâ€™ that doesnâ€™t show up on our scans.â€ 

â€œThat is a problem, yes.â€ 

On the topic of scans, the scanner Trip set up to monitor Malcolm beeped. â€œGood news,â€ said Trip after examining the display. â€œThe microorganisms are slowinâ€™ down.â€ 

â€œPerhaps the planet will stop spinning so fast soon.â€ 

â€œSee, I told you this was a good idea.â€ With that, Trip returned to his hand massage, until the scanner beeped again half a minute later. â€œâ€˜Vulnerability Detected,â€™ it says. Maybe if it told me what that wasâ€¦â€ 

Malcolm sat straight up, or at least something that approached straight. It was a bit hard to be sure. â€œWhat kind of vulnerability? Are the bars weakening?â€ 

â€œItâ€™s scanninâ€™ you anâ€™ the microorganisms. Nothinâ€™ to worry about. Huh.â€ He pulled out his communicator. â€œTucker to Phlox.â€ 

â€œYes, Commander?â€ â€œThe scannerâ€™s tellinâ€™ me that itâ€™s detected a vulnerability. Somethinâ€™ in Malcolmâ€™s system is toxic to the microorganisms. Letâ€™s seeâ€¦ increased testosterone, serotoninâ€¦ looks like some hormones and neurotransmittersâ€¦ hold on, Iâ€™m gonna send these to you.â€ It took Trip a moment, but by carefully holding the scanner just so he was able to find a path between bars which allowed the transmission. 

â€œHmm. Have you been offering Commander Reed physical comfort?â€ 

â€œYes.â€ 

â€œFascinating. It appears that one or more hormones or neurotransmitters released during intimate contact is halting the progress of the microorganism. I advise you to maintain physical contact.â€ 

â€œCan do, Doc.â€ 

â€œIâ€™m going to study these readings further. Keep me apprised, yes?â€ 

â€œSure thing. Tucker out.â€ 

Malcolm mustâ€™ve been swaying, because Trip pulled him in. â€œAw, Malcolm,â€ said Trip quietly. â€œWhen I said â€˜any excuse to cuddle with you,â€™ this wasnâ€™t what I meant.â€ 

â€œIt better not have been.â€ 

â€œAt least I can help.â€ Now, instead of leaning on Tripâ€™s shoulder, Malcolm was practically in Tripâ€™s lap and lying on his chest. Lowering his voice, Trip asked, â€œJust try to relax, okay?â€ 

â€œExactly what part of this situation am I supposed to find relaxing?â€ 

Trip knew him, and therefore didnâ€™t respond directly. Making snide remarks was Malcolmâ€™s way of dealing with scenarios he found uncomfortable. â€œClose your eyes.â€ 

Malcolm hesitated, but did as he was told. â€œThere. Weâ€™re all gonna be fine, you know. And youâ€™re just workinâ€™ yourself up â€˜cause you like people to think youâ€™re Superman.â€ 

â€œPlease. Superman had a weakness.â€ 

Trip chuckled, making his chest move. â€œRight.â€ 

â€œDonâ€™t laugh. Iâ€™ve already got enough motion to deal with.â€ â€œ

Sorry. You okay with this? I think itâ€™s a darn good reason to break the no-PDA-on-duty rule.â€ 

â€œYouâ€™re right, of course.â€ Naturally, Trip saw through to the heart of the matter. â€œBut you still donâ€™t like it.â€ 

â€œWhen do I ever like breaking rules?â€ 

â€œGood point.â€ 

â€œIt is helping, though. Iâ€™m slightly less dizzy.â€ 

Trip consulted the scanner. â€œFeverâ€™s still the same, but thatâ€™s probably because the meds are keepinâ€™ it lower to begin with. Silver lininâ€™ to beinâ€™ sick, though: you get your own water.â€ He unscrewed the lid and handed Malcolm his water pouch. 

â€œDonâ€™t you forget to drink,â€ said Malcolm in between sips. 

â€œRight. Uh, Hoshi?â€ 

â€œYes?â€ 

â€œCould you bring me a water pouch for a minute?â€ 

â€œSure.â€ 

â€œCanâ€™t have my pillow getting dehydrated,â€ Malcolm told her, voice pitched so only she and Trip would hear. She chuckled and handed the pouch to Trip, who took several swallows. 

â€œThanks. Howâ€™s the new discovery?â€ asked Trip when handing the water back. 

â€œYou can keep that here,â€ she said, trying not to take the water. 

â€œNope. Might get it mixed up with Malcolmâ€™s.â€ 

â€œGood point.â€ She accepted the water, taking a sip herself. â€œThis new stone has a head-and-shoulders picture, so we have a pretty good idea what the inhabitants of this planet looked like, at least from the shoulders up. I still havenâ€™t gotten anywhere with the language, because my sample is so small and I donâ€™t have anything to compare to.â€ 

Malcolm had to close his eyes again, because the breeze was playing with some rogue strands of Hoshiâ€™s hair, and in his state the effect looked nearly psychedelic. â€œOf course. Youâ€™ve got to have something to compare a new language to.â€ 

â€œAn alien Rosetta Stone,â€ added Trip. 

â€œThis could be a lifetimeâ€™s worth of work. I have to remind myself of that, sometimes.â€ 

â€œNot fair to expect yourself to get years of work done in one afternoon,â€ agreed Trip. 

â€œI know. But it doesnâ€™t mean I donâ€™t want to.â€ 

Trip replied, â€œI think weâ€™ve all been there.â€ 

â€œProbably. Iâ€™d better get back and use the time I do have.â€ 

â€œGood luck,â€ said Malcolm. 

When he and Trip were left alone again, he tried to relax. Considering the circumstances, relaxation was really out of the question, so the most he managed was to refocus. He noted Tripâ€™s heartbeat and the faint scent of his familiar aftershave. 

â€œIâ€™m already turning pink,â€ announced Van Assche. 

â€œIâ€™m sorry,â€ said Gomez. 

Trip turned his head to make himself heard. â€œNot your fault, ensign. Just a lousy bit of luck, but since weâ€™re all inside, Iâ€™m not complaininâ€™ too much.â€ 

Malcolm had, from the first weeks heâ€™d known Trip, always appreciated his ability to make people feel better. It was the truth, too, what he told Gomez. According to Trip, heâ€™d made a conscious effort to learn â€˜people skillsâ€™ and the results were so impressive Malcolm couldnâ€™t quite believe they werenâ€™t at least partially innate. 

â€œItâ€™s gonna hurt like hell, though,â€ Trip added, for Malcolmâ€™s ears only. 

â€œAt least the uniforms cover most of our skin.â€ 

â€œYeah, but Iâ€™m gonna miss kissinâ€™ you for a couple of days.â€ As if trying to prepare himself for the loss, Trip dropped a quick kiss on his forehead. 

Malcolm asked with slight alarm, â€œWhy are we going to stop kissing?â€ He liked to keep kisses off-duty â€“ and any serious snogging behind closed doors â€“ but was quite fond of kissing Trip. 

â€œHave you ever had sunburn so bad your lips were burned?â€ 

â€œNo.â€ 

â€œIt sucks. Trust me.â€ 

â€œNo doubt Iâ€™ll have personal experience before long.â€ 

â€œUh-huh. But here, put your hands in.â€ He positioned Malcolmâ€™s hands between their bodies. â€œIt should help.â€ Then Trip proceeded to rub his back. â€œIs this good, Mal?â€ he asked softly. 

â€œMmm,â€ he mumbled by way of reply. â€œLovely.â€ It was, indeed, as good as circumstances allowed. Trip was very good to him. 

It was some twenty minutes before either of them spoke. Malcolm felt compelled to ask, â€œCan we not tell Madeline about this?â€ 

â€œI guess. Why not?â€ 

â€œBecause sheâ€™ll never let me live it down.â€ 

â€œOh.â€ 

â€œMaddie is a terrible tease, you know.â€ 

â€œAnâ€™ you never tease, right?â€ asked Trip lightly. 

Malcolm did his best to sound solemn. â€œNever.â€ 

The carefree moment was interrupted by Tripâ€™s communicator. â€œ _Enterprise_ to Tucker.â€ 

â€œTucker.â€ 

â€œWeâ€™re ready for the sonic wave. Tâ€™Pol and Hess have it aimed on your location. Do you think the bars are strong enough to handle any instability it might cause?â€ 

Malcolm idly wondered if Tâ€™Pol could hear the frequency they were using â€“ although he rather thought Vulcans had stronger hearing in very nearly the same range as humans, perhaps a bit better in the higher frequencies. Anyway, she didnâ€™t seem to think it a concern. 

â€œItâ€™s pretty hard to tell without beinâ€™ able to scan them,â€ Trip told Archer, â€œbut some of these beaver-lions were throwinâ€™ themselves against the bars anâ€™ they held up just fine. I think itâ€™s a risk we have to take.â€ 

â€œI was afraid youâ€™d say that. Get as close together as you can.â€ 

Trip helped Malcolm up. While he wasnâ€™t as dizzy as he had been, Malcolm still experienced a wobbling world and moreover was still a bit weak, so he leaned on Trip once they were standing with Hoshi, Van Assche (archaeology kits in hand), and Gomez. 

â€œWeâ€™re ready whenever you are, Capâ€™n.â€ 

â€œArcher to Tâ€™Pol,â€ they heard over the open comm. â€œProceed when ready, Commander.â€ 

â€œActivating sonic wave generator,â€ replied Tâ€™Pol. 

The ground beneath them pulsed, but thankfully the bars held. On the other hand, pulsing ground when combined with dizziness was really dreadful, so Malcolm was glad when Trip put an arm around his waist. Outside the cage, the creatures began to make low, guttural, and entirely unpleasant noises. 

â€œWe can feel it,â€ Trip informed the captain. 

â€œAre the creatures reacting?â€ 

â€œThey donâ€™t look too happy. Can you hear them?â€ 

â€œTâ€™Pol, turn it up.â€ 

â€œIncreasing volume.â€ 

That did the trick. The herd, hissing and growling, made a chaotic retreat. Malcolm watched with great satisfaction as they moved off nearly a kilometer (it was hard to estimate distance when dizzy, he discovered). 

â€œCan you transport us without turninâ€™ off the wave generator?â€ asked Trip. â€œI think we made them mad, anâ€™ Iâ€™d feel better if we didnâ€™t give them a chance to rush us.â€ 

â€œThe sonic waves will not interfere with transport,â€ Tâ€™Pol informed them. 

â€œRetract the bars,â€ ordered Archer. 

Trip couldnâ€™t quite reach while holding on to Malcolm, so he looked at Van Assche. â€œLieutenant?â€ 

â€œYes sir.â€ She carefully pulled it towards the ground, and as hoped the bars slid down. Malcolm was happy to note that the herd did not come racing back. By the time the rod was nearly parallel to the ground, their cage had disappeared. 

Over the comm. Rostov announced, â€œIâ€™ve got a lock on Commanders Tucker and Reed as well as Lieutenant Van Assche, Captain.â€ 

â€œEnergize.â€ 

Like most crewmembers, Malcolm had initially been skeptical of the transporter. Over the years, however, it had been used to rescue him several times, and he was beginning to associate the tingle of transport with relief. 

Rostov was at the controls, with Captain Archer and Doctor Phlox on either side of him. 

â€œGood to have you back,â€ said the captain. 

Malcolm was quite thankful to be back. This was interrupted, however, by a decidedly unwelcome feeling. 

â€œI think Iâ€™m going to pass out,â€ he told Trip, before they could even move off the transporter pad so Rostov could transport Hoshi and Gomez. 

He felt Tripâ€™s grip tighten before he proceeded to do just that. 

**** 

When he came to, Malcolm found himself in the all-too-familiar environment of Sickbay. He hadnâ€™t even opened his eyes when he felt Trip gently squeeze his left bicep. â€œHey, Mal. Good news: youâ€™re microorganism-free.â€ 

â€œDid you cuddle them to death?â€ 

â€œNope.â€ When he opened his eyes, he saw Trip grinning. â€œPhlox took care of them.â€ 

Tripâ€™s face was an angry-looking shade of red, which prompted Malcolm to ask, â€œAnd gave us the good burn cream, I gather.â€ 

â€œWith the painkiller? Yeah. Definitely the good stuff.â€ 

â€œIâ€™m not looking forward to it wearing off.â€ 

â€œMe neither.â€ Trip cringed a little at the thought. 

Malcolm thought perhaps they might get another dose, if they played their cards well. He paused, then ventured, â€œDo I want to know what Phlox did?â€ 

â€œHyposprays, this time. No leeches or anythinâ€™ like that.â€ 

â€œThe time Iâ€™m unconscious. It figures.â€ â€œApparently, transport excited the microorganisms in your body, which is why you lost consciousness.â€ The doctor had, as always, managed to appear out of nowhere, medical scanner in hand. â€œFortunately, it also left them weakened.â€ The scanner beeped, which pleased Phlox. â€œExcellent! An hour of observation, just to be certain, and youâ€™ll be free to go.â€ 

â€œGood. I can still make my meeting with Kearny.â€ Malcolm sat up, grateful that Sickbay was not spinning even the slightest bit. â€œIs an hour really necessary, Doctor?â€ 

â€œWell, heâ€™s back to normal,â€ declared Archer as he walked into Sickbay. 

Trip nodded. â€œThatâ€™s my Mal.â€ 

â€œIt is completely necessary, Commander,â€ said Phlox. 

Since Malcolm was hoping for another dose of the good burn cream, he decided it was in his best interest to obey the doctor. 


End file.
